


Falling for you

by book_girl



Series: Falling for You [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Hurt Aziraphale (Good Omens), Panic Attacks, The Fall (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 13:13:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29136102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/book_girl/pseuds/book_girl
Summary: After The Armageddon that never happened Aziraphale realizes that he could never truly be with Crowley unless something was to change.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale & Gabriel (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Falling for You [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2138208
Comments: 6
Kudos: 14





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally a two part comic on my Instagram @book._.girl_ but I am switching it to this due to less time. Sorry if I kind of suck at writing, this is my first time :) hope you enjoy.

Two months after armaggedidn’t

“Do not fraternize with the enemy principality.” Gabriels face loomed above him, His eyes glowing a deep purple and his voice shook Aziraphale to the core. 

“You are an angel and you are above this filth.” 

filth. Filth. Angels were above it all; The epitome of perfection.   
He was filth. He was in love with filth.   
An angel couldn't love a demon and a demon could never love an angel. The words stung deep like a knife. Repeating over and over. The world before Aziraphlae seemed to shatter like glass and turn black.  
Every time he thought of the words gabriel got a bit taller and his world crumbled a bit more until his vision swam with words of purple and black. “Perfect” “grace” “enemies” “opposite” “filth” “above” “angel.”

“I am an angel and you are a demon. We’re hereditary enemies!” 

The world went completely black.

“Aagh!” Aziraphale woke up in a cold sweat, wings extended behind him and loose feathers floating around his blue tartan nightcap. The moonlight shone in through his window and hit the edge of a tear falling down his pale cheek. 

He stood up from his bed and paced the room. “Just a nightmare. Thats all. A dream; nothing more.” He muttered to himself, tricking his brain out of its current course of action. “No no no no-” Aziraphale ran his fingers through his curly blonde hair and wiped his tears away with his sleeve. Every muscle in his body trembled and his mind went into overdrive. “We could never be together. Not here. Not like this. Never like this.” 

“Not unless something changes.” He sunk to his knees, closing his eyes and letting the tears fall down his cheeks. Shaking Aziraphale pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed a number. 

He had always been a sensible angel, followed every rule, every command and never spoke out against anyone. But angels don’t fall in love. Demons can’t love. Aziraphale hoped they could.

Aziraphale’s trembling hand clutched his phone, “Come on dear,” he whispered. “Please pick up the phone. I need you.”  
A tone sounded and Aziraphale’s heart sank. “You have reached the mailbox of Anthony Crowley, please leave a message٭ after the tone. -BEEP-”  
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
٭At this time Crowley lay asleep sprawled out on his bed. Hair in a tussle and clothes still on; as if he had passed out.  
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Aziraphale leaned back on his bed, adjusting his position on the floor so the his wings surrounded him like a soundproof cocoon.   
“My dear, I- I have something to say. I just… can’t say it. Not yet. We can’t be together, not like this at least. A demon and an angel. I-” He paused “I’ll be with you soon Crowley. Please- Please don’t come looking for me, I will find you. Goodbye my serpent.” He ended the message. Aziraphale struggled to catch his breath; air coming in at uneven intervals and gasps. He stayed like this on the floor for a long time, thinking about what he was going to do. If it was worth it. If it would work. 

Aziraphale rose from the floor and brushed the tears from his face, his legs jelly under his weight. He snapped his fingers and his blue and purple plaid pajamas disappeared and were replaced with a simple white robe that wrapped around his body, up his shoulder, and fell down in layers at his feet. His white wings perfectly spread out like an eagle behind his back. He knew what he had to do, and he knew how much he could possibly loose. But he also knew how much he could possibly gain.

Things had been getting more complicated and less secret between him and Crowley. They went on walks through Saint James park holding hands and eating ice cream every day around 2:00. Crowley had even learned to make crepes. They had spent almost every waking moment with each other and then some. And if heaven ever found out. Well lets just say he’d be toast for sure. 

The dark interior of Aziraphale’s bookshop glowed an eerie blue as he walked to the door. The sound of his bare feet hitting the floor echoed off of the walls and he unlocked the door and stepped out. He didn't bother locking the door as he set out into the cold morning air.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley wakes up all happy with a plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything is not tickety-boo

Another amazing day. All days had been amazing since Armageddon was stopped. Every morning for two weeks Crowley had woken up early in the morning to spend as much time as possible with Aziraphale. The sun had just begun to rise and the first rays of morning light were peeking through the back curtains of Crowley's flat. His cell phone buzzed as his 6 o’clock alarm went off. Crowley grumbled and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Today was going to be a great day; no, the best day. Probably the best day he had had in his entire immortal lifespan. Crowley had planned a picnic and was determined to have it be the most perfect picnic that had ever happened. Plans require steps and Crowley had scribbled his plan out on a napkin last night at dinner.

Step one: get out of bed.  
Step two: get ready for the day  
Step three: Greet Aziraphale with the picnic basket and a smile.  
Step four: Get down on one knee.

The perfect plan.

He knew that marriage was some silly human tradition but he wanted to finally make it official. Crowley had made an effort to find the best rings he could; His, a thin silver band and Aziraphales a simple gold band with a single diamond in the center. They would most likely have a small ceremony and then have a very large cake afterwards. He had taken Aziraphale to different cake shops and tested what flavors suited them best; He decided on a nice black forest cake with dark chocolate cake and a creamy white buttercream and cherries to top it off. 

Crowley changed into a fresh set of clothes and wandered to the bathroom; checking his phone on the way. “One message? At 4 in the bloody morning?” He complained. “Why would he call me at 4 in the morning?” He navigated his phone to the message and listened. His phone pressed against his face.  
“My dear, I- I have something to say. I just… can’t say it. Not yet… We can’t be together,” a small tear rolled down his cheek and he kept listening, loosing his grip on the phone. Frozen in place in the doorway of his bathroom. “not like this at least. A demon and an angel. I-I’ll be with you soon Crowley. Please- Please don’t come looking for me, I will find you.” The phone dropped from his hand and cracked on the floor. “Goodbye my serpent.” The muffled noise rose from the cracked phone and reached his ears. He wasn’t listening anymore. Crowley bolted for the door. Running down the stairs and out into the open street. He snapped his fingers and the engine of the bently roared to life. He stepped on the gas, revving the engine and scaring any and all pedestrians nearby. 

“No. no. no no no no no! He cant do this! Can he? Why would he ever want to? Was it me? Was it something I did? Did I say something wrong?! Why would he need to change?!” The car channeled his pain and anger into full speed as he raced down streets and onto a highway.  
“If he thinks he is going to help by doing this then he is wrong! What is he thinking. I’ve just gotta go faster.” The Bentley now rearing on 336 kilometers per hour. He had to get there. 

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

There are many passages to heaven and hell throughout the earth. But there is only one original door. There is a spot on the outskirts of a field where both heaven and hell meet in perfect synchronization. The spot where Crowley fell. The spot where all demons fell to be more exact. The ground would slowly open up to reveal a pit of boiling sulfur when needed. Any other time of the year it was a pasture for grazing cattle and sheep. No angel had been sentenced to fall in 2,000 years and unless something big happened no angel would. 

Falling isn’t an exact art and you don’t need an archangel to sentence a fall. God needs to let you. In theory any angel could stand near the edge and do a backflip to become a demon; no one has ever tried before and the residents of heaven usually try to stay away from the edge of the cloud-face. Aziraphale, however, was rapidly approaching the spot; his white wings beating.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Crowley had broken every driving law in London and then some. He was fighting to get there. Swerving in and out of traffic until he reached the one laned country road. Now it was a matter of how fast he could reach him.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Aziraphale had already put his plan in motion and there was no stopping him. If an angel and a demon can’t be together then who is going to stop a demon and a demon from being in love. It had taken him just over 2 hours to fly to the cliff and he looked down. It was a long way down. He shifted nervously in the white robe and looked back at the array of heaven behind him. The golden dome of the judgement hall shone bright in the sun and he could see the vague outlines of sentinels with their flaming swords in the distance. They wouldn't stop him; no one would; no one could. He closed his eyes, thinking about the 2 millennia he had spent on this earth. All the good he had done. He had lost so many things and spent so much time on himself and his own personal pleasure. Maybe he was more like a demon than he realized.  
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The Bentley came to a screeching halt in the middle of a field. He had to be here. He knew this was where he would be. He had to stop him.  
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Aziraphale knew what was coming and he knew how much it would hurt. But maybe both sides would be happier if he were a demon. He wondered if Crowley had even gotten his message, or if he decided to come here. There was only one way to truly know; Aziraphale folded his soft white wings behind his back and did a freefall dive into the pits of hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for writing this.


End file.
